Slowly, A Trent and Daria love story
by R-COTA
Summary: DISCONTINUED 25 year old Daria returns to Lawndale unwillingly for Quinn's 23rd brithday. Reuniting with Trent is a bonus side effect.
1. Chapter 1

Slowly

A Trent and Daria love story.

In a city far, far, far, far, far..._far_ away from Lawndale, Daria Morgendorffer sat. At 25 years old, Daria was a college graduate, and sometimes published, semi-successful author. To pay the bills Daria often free-lanced at a newspaper; offering her own cynical opinion of things in the form of an article. The arrangement worked fairly well: Daria got money, and got to bitch about things. Everybody wins. Otherwise Daria worked on pieces of fiction.

Daria flipped effortlessly through the newspaper at her table, searching out her column's responses. Several people had replied to her latest entry, some supportive and others downright furious. Daria smiled her signature smile and sipped her soft drink.

As an adult, Daria had grown up somewhat from her teenage ensemble. Though she still wore the same thing most days, she'd swapped her black skirt for some black jeans tucked into her well worn lace-up boots, and instead of her green jacket and orange shirt, she wore a grey short-sleeved shirt, and opted for a fluffy hoodie when the weather required. Other than that, her appearance was mostly the same. After her original glasses broke, she'd swapped them for a smaller, more rectangular pair which suited her face. Essentially Daria remained short, with thick hair, and her omnipresent air of apathy and a hint of contempt.

It was in the early hours of the afternoon, and Daria literally had nothing to do. There was a fictional story on her computer waiting to be written, but before that could happen, Daria had to wait for some inspiration. Oddly she found herself lacking in the creative juices department. Sure, she was still excellent at complaining, and that was enough to put to paper, but a fantastical story with plot and meaning eluded her.

Daria lived alone. It suited her quiet temperament, though she missed the few people who'd seen through the barrier she'd spent the largest portion of her life building. Jane, also semi-successful in her own respective career, travelled at will, visiting exotic places in random corners of the globe searching for more scenes to depict with her brush. They kept in touch, mostly through sparse mail because often Jane didn't have access to a phone, or a computer, or even basic civilisation. Her art had flourished through, and she made a fairly steady and sufficient living, enough to send her around the world. She also picked up odd jobs here and there for some extra spending money. Tom and Daria had reached somewhat of an impasse in their relationship. They'd so far never rekindled the flame of their relationship, and their attempt at remaining friends persevered awkwardly to this day. Tom still meant a lot to her, but Daria was fairly sure their best days were long behind them. Daria had seen Tom the least out of everyone since she left. Trent had also grown up somewhat. He still fronted Mystik Spiral, but he'd gotten himself a day job and lived somewhat normally now, with some responsibility. Lastly was her family. Somehow despite all their differences and miscommunications over the years, they had levelled out, and now understood each other to some degree. It wasn't much, but it was more than Daria had come to expect and she was pleased. Getting along better with her family severely reduced her feelings of alienation, and softened some of the spikes on her personality.

Speaking of family, it's Quinn's birthday in a few short days, Daria reminded herself. Quinn lived in Lawndale still, taking a community college class in business. Quinn had a sharp brain that was never fully nurtured but she'd been putting it to use these recent years beginning designs for her own brand of clothing while studying business in the hopes of one day owning her own fashion label. Reaching her early twenties had made Quinn realise that she didn't want high school to be the best years of her life and became determined to enjoy the remainder of her youth and beauty. This resulted in extravagant parties every year on her birthday to the point of ridiculousness, and semi-extravagant parties at any other time. Her 23rd birthday in a few days was sure to be no exception. Quinn had grown kinder over the years though, openly introducing Daria as her sister more frequently and with less embarrassment on her face. Quinn even let Daria invite a couple of friends to her party every year, not wanting Daria to be alone. Daria had a sneaking suspicion there was a secondary reason: to kept Daria away from Quinn's friends.

Daria was required to go back to Lawndale the next day and help with the preparations for the party. Daria tried to insist at the time of arranging that she would be unavailable due to an unavoidable need to refine the art of sitting on her couch, but her plan had failed, and her luggage sat packed and ready to go.

The hours on the clock wheedled away while Daria found boring tasks to occupy her. She dreaded the looming trip back to Lawndale, but looked forward to seeing Jane and Trent who'd been invited also. Trent was a sure thing as he still lived in town, but Jane's RSVP kept Daria cautious, knowing that she might suddenly be unable to come, due to being in isolation. At this thought, Daria plodded to her computer and checked her email, hoping against hope she wouldn't have received an email from Jane with her apologies. There was none. Of course, she'd be more likely to receive one in the actual mail, Daria thought to herself.

Daria's sleep that night was uneasy, plagued by memories of Lawndale and its occupants, and the fear of being left alone at a party where she'd be forced to mingle with many of Quinn's vapid friends.

x.x.x

After a long and arduous flight sitting next to a dishevelled and grumpy man who insisted on staring at Daria, while chewing on a mystery substance, the plane touched down at Lawndale's modest airport. Daria sighed and got into one of the taxis waiting to take their sobbing customers (Daria assumed many people arriving in Lawndale would be crying) to their foreboding destination.

The familiar house stared unforgiving at Daria in her taxi. Daria threw the required money to the man and climbed out, dragging her feet. She'd do pretty much anything to avoid going inside. She collected her bags and stood at the beginning of the walk to the house, just watching. After a while Daria hoisted her bags from the ground and opened the door. Inside the house was familiar. Virtually nothing had changed. This was somewhat soothing.

"Daria!" Helen Morgendorffer enthused, popping her head out from the kitchen. How odd, Daria thought, she's had the phone surgically removed. Helen disappeared behind the kitchen doorway again. Daria took this as her cue to follow her. As she walked into the kitchen, her eyes grew wide. Her mother was actually cooking. There were three pots simmering on the barely used stove, and something delicious smelling roasted in the oven. Helen was tossing a salad in between and was smiling up at her eldest daughter congenially.

"How are you, darling?" Helen asked, tossing her salad energetically. Daria chose her words carefully.

"I am somewhat...surprised to find you in the kitchen," admitted Daria. "Pleasantly," she added hastily.

"Oh, well, work isn't everything you know? After I cut back on my hours at the firm," Helen paused to swivel around and stir one of the pots behind her, "I just found that I was so much more relaxed, and now that I have the time to actually I do it, I enjoy cooking!" She returned to her salad and ground some pepper on it. "Besides, I was beginning to get bored of lasagna." At this point, Mr. Jake Morgendorffer also entered the kitchen.

"Hey, kiddo," he cried.

"Hi, Dad," was the monotonous reply. Jake then addressed his wife. Daria took the moment to slip upstairs and to her room, which like the rest of the house, remained unchanged. She flopped onto her bed, rather tired. Something crinkled beneath her. Shifting her weight, Daria pulled out a letter from underneath her. Recognising Jane's handwriting on the envelope, Daria's eyes narrowed in suspicion. Daria tore it open.

_Daria, hey!_

_You're probably wondering why I'm sending this to you at this address._

_I'm sorry, but I can't make it to Quinn's party. I knew you'd be here by now, so I thought I'd just send it here. Trent is still going to go, so you've got that to look forward to._

_Anyway, it's great down here! I've found lots of... _

There was more, but Daria could barely bring herself to read it. The disappointment flooded through her so impressively her semi-happy mood crushed to bordering on slightly depressed. Wishing for conversation from someone other than her parents, Daria snuck out the door under cover of her parents having a mild argument.

The few short blocks to Casa Lane evaporated quickly under Daria's feet and before she knew it she was at the door. She knocked, half expecting not to receive an answer. She didn't. Daria turned and started walking back up the path. It was then that a car that should have been crushed into a cube long ago pulled up to the curb. Daria's heart leapt unexpectedly. Trent. She admitted to herself it had been sometime since she'd seen him and she found herself feeling a little fluttery and nervous, struggling like a butterfly. The car's engine stopped and Trent stepped out.

"Daria, hey," drawled Trent. Trent dressed exactly the same as always, but without the holes. Daria's first crush stood, impressively laid back in front of her. "It's good to see you," he smiled and walked forward. Daria looked up at him meekly in the dark.

"Hi...Trent." How pathetic. Was that really all she could muster? Her eyes shifted to the side, unwilling to keep eye contact at length.

"Let's go inside," suggested Trent. "It's cold out." Trent gestured for Daria to go on ahead. Behind her, Trent's mind swirled with confusion and excitement. She was finally back. A small smile lingered on his face as he followed her up the walk.

Daria cursed herself as she walked. Ridiculous as it was, the feelings she had put on hold for Trent waiting for him to step up and be a man, were leaking out from their hiding spot. Trent closed the door behind them after they entered. He regarded Daria's appearance, and looked bored.

"So..." he said. They both looked at each other a little, and promptly shifted their eyes in opposite directions.

(A/N) Rate and Review.


	2. Chapter 2

Slowly

A Trent and Daria love story.

Daria's heart thumped wildly against her chest as she tried to focus on anything but the fact that Trent was amazing, and awesome, and perfect, and standing just a few feet in front of her. No, Daria was not thinking about that. Nope. Not at all. Oh, look, a crack in the floor. Fascinating. The blush inevitably crept to her cheeks like it used to. Obviously not being around Trent regularly had reduced her ability to feign nonchalance. Trent picked at something under his nails, and scratched his head. He picked at his nails again. The silence dragged on and Daria just wished she could say something, like: How's the band? How are you? I love you...or something like that.

"So...how are you, Daria?" murmured Trent. He breezed easily into the kitchen, while Daria followed meekly, and opened up the fridge. He sought out his food while he waited for her response. Daria swallowed a dry lump in her throat.

"I'm good. Aside from the fact that I'm back in Lawndale," Daria managed to say. Trent chuckled, and coughed.

"I'd leave," Trent offered conversationally, "but Mystik Spiral is still going and I can't let the guys down." Trent pulled out some lettuce, carrot and meat from the fridge. "I've had the opportunity to leave, but I just can't bring myself to do it...y'know?" Daria watched in surprise as Trent grabbed some bread, and assembled himself a sandwich. "I need to stay here."

"For the band," Daria reiterated. Trent looked up from his sandwich and stared long and hard at Daria with those black holes of eyes.

"Something like that," Trent said vaguely. Daria looked away from his gaze, heart flopping, and brought up a new topic.

"I've never seen you prepare food before," she stated, gesturing at the sandwich. Trent took a bite and chewed, looking thoughtful. And adorable. The sound of his munching filled the otherwise quiet room.

"I realised a while ago that you can't always order in. You have to grow up sometimes." He munched on his sandwich, his voice muffled. "So, you excited for the party?"

"Party?" Daria repeated.

"Yeah, Quinn's party." He popped a bit of stray lettuce back into his mouth with his finger.

"Oh, that. I was considering that to be more of a meeting for the local Idiot Club." Daria joked. Trent laughed and coughed again, putting his half-eaten sandwich on the bench. He walked forward and patted her on the shoulder. Daria stared at the sandwich. It was easier. Sandwiches don't have eyes like deep pools that you could stare into for hours. Or do they? Daria was sure she'd seen something on the Sick Sad World about live sandwiches.

"You're still funny, Daria." He gazed down at her, expressionless. Daria chanced a look at his face and regretted it. His eyes smouldered quietly and intensely as they always did. "Don't ever change." He leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. Daria's face fluttered bright red at the contact, no matter how innocent. Daria was frozen to the floor, though she felt like she should be melting. Daria knew she had to speak at some point. Or, do something. The longer she just stood there like a statue, the weirder this encounter would be.

"I...uh, um...you...uh..." Daria stuttered incomprehensively. Trent picked up on the fact that he had freaked her out, and the metaphorical walls around his heart shut down.

"Well, I should get to bed Daria. I have work in the morning." Trent said, while mentally slapping himself for his forwardness. One of these words snapped Daria out of her convoluted reverie.

"Work? You have band practice, or something?" Daria little expected the next response.

"Nah, man. I have actual work. I work at a music store. Sells CDs, and instruments. I even tutor people in guitar. It's cool..." Trent trailed off, and he cast a look at the stairs. Daria's eyes involuntarily followed his gaze. Trent caught her eye, and she blushed, wondering what he was thinking. Wondering if he knew what she was thinking. Wondering if she should come upstairs with him. Wondering if- "You should go, then Daria. I'm beat." Trent interrupted, shuffling his feet a little. Daria was a little taken aback. She headed to the door slowly, a little drag in her step. She opened the door, and was half outside when she turned back.

"Trent?" She said softly. Trent was partially up the stairs when he turned to see what Daria had to say. His eyes had narrowed slightly, probably because he could barely keep them open.

"Yeah, Daria?" He waited. It's not too late Daria! Just say nothing, and walk out! That's all you have to do! Just walk out! Daria screamed at herself in her head, and hesitated.

"...I've missed you." It felt like a horrible confession, snaking its way through her mouth. It felt as though admitting these words could cause gasps and shudders from everyone around her, and would lead to her to be confined where she couldn't infect others, but Trent smiled.

"Me too. But about you." They both looked at each for a long moment. Unfortunately, neither could read each other's mind, and didn't know that they were thinking the exact same thing: I love you. The situation grew awkward, and Daria excused herself, closing the door gently behind her. Trent stared at the door long after she'd left, and sighed when he was apparently convinced she wasn't coming back in unexpectedly. Trent plodded up the stairs, somewhat morosely. How could he tell her? How could he prove to her that he was not the boy he once was; that he was a man now? That he could be depended on? That he was finally worthy of the enigma Daria Morgendorffer?

xxxxxxxx

Daria lay in her bed, staring up at the ceiling. She couldn't believe that after all those years; her feelings for Trent could just come in like an avalanche. It was stupid and immature, and yet she couldn't stop it. There was a soft knock on her door, followed by a very pointy, hard to listen to voice.

"Daria? It's me!" Quinn said shrilly. She opened the door. Quinn had changed drastically. Her hair was short, above her shoulders, and she wore just a plain, long-sleeved white shirt over her jeans. She wasn't wearing lipstick, and didn't reek of designer perfume. Could it be that Quinn was losing her grip on the material world? "Hey, Daria!" A pleasant greeting. She must want something. Daria considered her sister in the doorway, and decided a sarcastic reply was unneeded at this point.

'Hi, Quinn. Nice to see you." Okay, maybe it was a little sarcastic. Daria didn't move from her bed, but her head was tilted up to make eye contact. Quinn understood that to be an invite in. She sat herself on the bed and looked around.

"Yeah, your room is still all gross, Daria. Mum and Dad wouldn't let me change it, even though I said 'Mu-um, what if one of my friends was to see it?' I mean, I don't technically live here anymore, but I do come and visit and if my friends could see that I used to sleep in a room near this...disaster, it would just, eugh, I don't even know. Anyway, we start party prep tomorrow, I'm _so_ excited. I got the old Fashion Club to come over and help as well! It's going to be so much fun, and we're going to...Daria?" Quinn's hands stopped moved energetically as she spoke, drifting to her sides. Daria had pulled her pillow from behind her head and had placed it on top of her face. It was a testament to the changes in Quinn's personality that rather than storming off, she gently touched her sister's arm with her perfectly buffed and manicured hand. "Are you okay, Daria?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Although they were closer, they weren't exactly sharing their secrets. Quinn eyes narrowed intuitively, and she flicked her ever-perfect hair.

"Mum and Dad said you went to see Trent." Quinn gazed at the pillow expectantly, as though it was going to sprout a mouth. But the pillow said nothing. "Your silence says a lot, y'know, Daria." Quinn's voice was lit with song and teasing. The pillow remained expressionless. Quinn kept on waiting, eyebrows raised and her pretty mouth curved up in an amused smile. "Well, okay, don't say anything!" Quinn stood up and walked away, but just as she reached the doorway she turned back and whispered, "Just so you know, Trent's coming over tomorrow to help set up! Night!" Her hair disappeared instantly from the doorway. Now even the pillow looked like it had an expression of chagrin.

(A/N) Hi. Sorry for the few typos I had in the last chapter! I've tried my best with this one, but I apologise if I've missed any.

Just a note about my use of "Mum". I'm Australian, and that's how we write the short version of Mother, just to clear that up with anyone

Well, I'd love some reviews, and pointers. Constructive criticism always accepted

Love, R-COTA.


	3. Chapter 3

Slowly

A Trent and Daria love story.

The next day Daria sat at the kitchen table reading the newspaper, her breakfast on a plate in front of her. Jake set next to her reading his paper, too. He was sipping his juice distractedly as he read something that horrified him in the paper. Helen paced around with the phone, talking to someone about Quinn's party, and Quinn herself was holed up in the bathroom in a cloud of foundation. Daria stared at the scene, and inwardly shook her head. Sometimes it was amazing how things just go back to normal.

"Oh, boy," said Daria flatly. Jake looked up from his newspaper.

"What?" He sounded alarmed. His eyes were frantic as they met his daughter's.

"I'm pregnant…with a boy." Jake's eyes bugged out of his head.

"A BOY?"

"No, Dad."

"Oh." The two went back to their respective newspapers, a hint of a smile on Daria's face, and Helen strolled past murmuring into her phone. Quinn came in and sat down. She looked expectantly around the table, waiting for attention.

"So, troops!" she began. She noticed Helen was still pacing. "Mu-um, I need you here! Big birthday celebrations, remember." She drew the word remember out painfully until Helen distractedly excused herself from her phone call.

"I'm sorry, dear, but I was organising things for your party," Helen tipped her head. Quinn ignored her, cleared her throat, and addressed her people like the queen she was.

"So! The party is on Saturday, of course, I mean anyone who's someone only has their parties on Saturday. Today is Wednesday, so that gives us four days, including the Saturday to get ready! I want to start with getting the hall ready." Quinn had rented a hall in town as the venue. "So, we'll all need to be getting decorations, and I just have no idea how long that will take. We're talking streamers, confetti, balloons, sculptures, balloon-sculptures, everything! I've already ordered some that just need to be picked up, but most will need deciding on. Of course, that will be my job, but I'll need help moving them. After we're set up, we'll need to get the juke box, Dad that's your job. After that, it's food, food, food!" Quinn's hands clapped together, a wide grin graced her face and she looked around excitedly. She was met with a less than anti-climactic response, but her face didn't fall. She just continued on. She handed a piece of paper to her mother. "Mum, this is a list of all the things that need to be picked up and where. They should fit in the car." She turned her sights on Daria. "You are helping with Trent and me. I'll be picking out new things, and it'll be your and Trent's job to take them over as soon as possible. We're on a time crunch here, folks." Daria finally spoke up.

"How did you manage to get Trent to help you anyway?"

"He came over in person to tell us he was coming and I think you'll find Daria, I can be very convincing," Quinn's hand shook dismissively as she spoke. "Now, he won't be here for a while, he has work until 10am but there's lots that we can get done before then. Now, let's move!"

x.x.x

Quinn's excitement was insatiable. At every new object, her 'ooh's were rekindled with the same extensive ear-piercing ability that sent dogs running. Standing at close range was somewhat difficult, but, Daria told herself repeatedly, it was almost 10, and Trent would soon rescue her. Quinn and Trent had pre-arranged to meet at a particular store at ten past ten, to give Trent time to get there. It was five to, and the seconds were clawing their way towards ten past. Daria's eyes flicked to her watch every few seconds because becoming interested in what Quinn was doing was just not an option.

"Oh, look Daria! Check out these glitter packs! There's a three for two deal! That's great!" She moved along, scrutinising the different glitter colours, approximating the sizes and potential slip/stick factors.

"Quinn, it's ten. Shouldn't we be going to the store to meet Trent?" Quinn's head tilted in the direction of Daria's voice, but her eyes remained stuck on the glitter. Quinn handed the bags of goods they'd already collected to Daria.

"He'll be at Party Stuff. Just go, and take what we've already got. I have decisions to make." Quinn excused her with an impatient wave of her hand. Daria almost ran to the door, bags swinging wildly, because she never took ten extra Quinn-free minutes for granted. Party Stuff wasn't far down the road, so Daria could afford to meander. She gazed at the cracks in the pavement, and viewed the graceful town around her. Sometimes she had to admit that Lawndale wasn't all _that _bad, it was just high school that made her feel that way. Daria felt calm, until she remembered that she was indeed going to meet Trent and it was probably going to be awkward. The dread lay in her stomach like a lead weight but she took some comfort in the fact that maybe he wouldn't even show. That's why as she rounded the corner and Party Stuff came into view, her stomach fell out of her butt into the pavement when she saw Trent already waiting outside the store. She approached slowly, and Trent glanced up. His face shifted automatically to a relaxed smile, and his hand reached half-mast for a lazy wave.

"Hi, Daria," he said, looking down at her. Why did she have to be so short? He looked behind her, confused. "Where's Quinn?" He continued to gaze behind her. It wasn't until after Daria spoke that he finally looked back at her.

"She's not coming. She's making important glitter choices, and she says for us to just take this stuff to the hall. I'm so glad." Daria's voice sounded normal, but it was through effort that she kept it flat. Trent was looking at her without an expression. He reached out, and took half the bags from Daria's hands.

"I brought the car, let's take it." He unlocked Daria's side of the car first, and he even opened the door. Daria's eyebrows rose in suspicion and surprise, but she slid graciously into the seat, placing the bag of goodies between her knees. They crinkled pleasantly at the slightest movement. Trent sat heavily in the driver seat, making the car shake a little, though that may have just been the instability of the car. Trent drove with ease, one hand on the wheel, the other sitting relaxed propped up on the car door. The radio played quietly, and it was easy to slip into the comfortable silence they used to share frequently. Daria gazed out the window, apparently at ease, but she was still focussed on the man seated next to her.

"You know where the hall is?" Daria questioned. Trent nodded, and drummed his fingers. Daria couldn't stay silent, and brought up the first topic she could think of. "Why'd you agree to help? I know that you don't always have lots to do, but there's always lots to do that's better than hanging with Quinn," quipped Daria. Trent smiled.

"It wasn't Quinn I wanted to hang with, Daria," Trent smiled, but he was nervous, and felt sweaty. He'd decided that today would be the day! He was going to tell her! He glanced at Daria from the corner of his eye, gauging her reaction. Daria sat ramrod straight in her seat, staring at the oncoming road. She was so embarrassed! Here she was, a grown woman, and this man reduced her to this…puddle! It was as equally frustrating as it was exciting. Daria cleared her throat, while she tried to think of a response. Just in time, they arrived at the hall, saving her. The hall was one of the nicer, modern buildings in town. Its design was simple, but elegant. Inside it had rich wooden floors and the walls were covered in photos of town events: official town opening, centenary celebrations, hot-dog eating contests, y'know, the usual. There were tables lined up along one edge of the room on the far side, brought in by Helen and Jake, Daria assumed. As Daria and Trent walked, their shoes clacked loudly and echoed around the room, and made Daria feel as though there was a giant magnifying glass pointed on the two of them. They placed their bags on the tables. "Now what?" said Trent.

"Now nothing. We just have to wait for Quinn. So we have…all this time to ourselves," Daria's voice trailed awkwardly. Great. Now that they had exhausted the easy topics, surely last night was going to come to the table. Daria waited, ill at ease.

"Daria, I wanted to talk about something." Oh, and here it is. Daria looked up at Trent, who appeared uneasy. "Will you go with me to the party?" Daria relaxed.

"We are going, Trent. Remember, your invite is an extension of mine?" Daria smiled at him comfortingly, unsure why he seemed on edge. Trent cringed and turned directly to face Daria.

"No, that's not what I meant," he rushed, well, it was rushing for Trent. By anyone else's standards, it was still slow. Now Daria's heart leapt. Trent stepped forward and Daria's heart leapt again. It was now sitting more in her throat than her chest. She looked away. Trent's hand was gentle when it touched her face, turning her face to his. He stared into her eyes. Daria's heart almost stopped, and her breathing actually did. "Will you go with me? As…a date?" His hand stayed on her face, warm, which was nice because the heat in Daria had flooded outward, her body mostly cold, though his hand excited some heat in her lower abdomen. When she found her voice, she really didn't know what to say. Really, she wasn't even sure what was happening.

"Trent…I don't know." She finally managed to gaze down at her feet. Her voice was barely a mumble. "I'm only here for a few days…" The response made no sense at all to her, but that was what her mouth had come up with. Trent moved his hand, leaving Daria's face aching. He placed it on the table instead, leaning. He was silent. Staring at her feet, Daria's mind grew crazy, not knowing what was happening above her laces. Her breath was ragged, and the floor seemed to revolve a little. She wanted to look up. The spot where she knew Trent's face was called to her.

"Daria, I just want to say something," said Trent. Despite that, there was silence for several more seconds. Trent stared at her bowed head, considering his best course of action. Daria waited, eyes clenched closed so that she could not look into his eyes. It was then that Trent's lips brushed hers, just briefly, ever so swiftly and softly. Her eyes flew open and her head snapped up. Trent was looking at her. "I just need you to know…before you…go...again…y'know?" He paused, and his head cocked the side, and he nodded slightly. Daria recognised this face as 'hey, those could be song lyrics.' He looked away then, and put his hands in his pockets. Gobsmacked, Daria couldn't even process thoughts. She stared at Trent with her mouth open like a goldfish, and occasionally looked like she tried to say something. Trent looked a little amused. "It's okay, Daria. I'm not expecting anything to happen. I just need you to know, and now you do." He turned to the bags on the table. "Let's unpack these shall we?" His hands were already shuffling through the bags and he took out party blowers and hats. Daria worked on the next bag with numb fingers that really weren't working too well. Her mind was a whirlwind of partially completed thoughts and action plans. From the corner of her eye, she considered Trent. The situation was overwhelming, and Daria couldn't handle it.

"I have to go," she breathed and she ran for the door. Trent didn't watch her go; he just stared at the meaningless things in his hands. His mouth had dipped in the corners, and his eyes were heavy lidded with remorse.

Daria Morgendorffer had never run so fast in her life. Her hair trailed out behind her but the problems in her mind stayed firmly lodged in her cerebellum. Damn you Trent, she thought. The sidewalk whizzed by, and she bumped into people, but she couldn't care. She couldn't, because he'd finally taken it; her heart. It had been there the entire time, and he'd finally taken it. Damn you, Trent, damn you. Daria huffed and puffed as she ran, and she damned Trent Lane.

(A/N) Once again, reviews appreciated/preferred to nothing! Show me some love, guys :P

Have a good one guys.

R-COTA


	4. Chapter 4

Discontinuation:

Hi guys. After months of not being able to post I'm going to have to discontinue this story.

I recently changed cities and I now attend university which is taking up a lot of my time.

I also made the fatal error of not putting down another plot other than the love story.

I pronounce this story deceased at 7:32pm, 26th March 2012.

For any who may be interested, I may start a small fanfic for the Hunger Games.

It will be only short excerpts from the book however they will be from Peeta's perspective.

He is my favourite character, and I feel his story is hideously underwritten, and I would like to try filling in some of those blanks.

Love,

COTA.


End file.
